


The Thing He Carried

by Kay_Drew



Category: Gilmore Girls, This Is Us (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_Drew/pseuds/Kay_Drew
Summary: This story is based on a post on Tumblr. It is also based on 'The Things That He Carried' by Tim O'Brien, who also wrote an episode of 'This Is Us'. I hope you enjoy! This story was beta-read by the lovely heatherfield.





	1. Memories

_What sticks to memory, often, are those odd little fragments that have no beginning and no end..._

Those words, those terrible, beautiful, colds words, jumped off the page. They glared. They accused. They mocked. They and their black ink on powdery white paper imprinted themselves into Jess’s mind.

 

He hated the cruel honesty. He hated this book. No. That wasn’t right. He didn’t hate this book. He hated the realness, the rawness Tim O’Brien captured. He hated that the words gave him strength to move forward. He hated that he needed something to push him in a direction.

 

Rory’s vanilla-peach scent lingered on his jacket just as her strained voice lingered in his ears and her doe-like expression haunted his memory. Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same.

 

Moments earlier they’d had a strained conversation about class and Fran’s funeral and Luke and of course prom. What was said mattered less than what wasn’t shared. The stumbled pleasantries hid desires of truth. Rory wanted to know so much and Jess had no answers.

 

Well, he had three answers – three very painful answers that would’ve shook Rory to the very core and had broken Jess. One, he wasn’t graduating. He couldn’t graduate. He couldn’t pass a damn test. Two, Luke gave him an ultimatum (months ago). He didn’t keep it and he left. Three, he joined the Army. No one knew (not Liz or Luke or Lane or Lorelai); he hadn’t told anyone. Hell, he’d told Luke he wanted to go to California, which was a big fat lie.

He’d lied to Luke. Day two of being here in Stars Hollow and he lied. The memory hurt as much as the cold water of that little body of water. Jess deserved it. He never held a grudge against Luke for pushing him into the lake. It was a punishment fit for the crime. He still hated he’d lied to Luke. He’d lied to Rory, too. He lied about her bracelet and her book. In the grand scheme of things they were small things that amounted to little. But, they added up. He shouldn’t have done what he did.

 

He stole, pulled pranks, mouthed off, skipped school and was the worst possible person he could’ve been. He could’ve been a golden boy. In utter shame and disgrace, it didn’t work out that way. Life never worked out the right way. Life would never work out that way - at least not for him.

 

They never did fancy things. They read or watched movies. They took walks. Mostly, they talked. They were the best conversations and best moments of his life, though. They added to the memories. Eating Luke’s and discussing Jane Austen with Rory and Paris felt like home. For the first, and only, time everything seemed okay. Sometimes it seemed like he was still back at that kitchen table, discussing literature with those two vibrant women. Sometimes he wished Dean hadn’t interrupted.

 

But it had ended. Dean had interrupted. Maybe in another time, another dimension, those conversations still happened. Jess liked to think so.

 

Out of Stars Hollow, the bus passed a park that mattered only to Jess. In the distance a little bridge arched upwards. The grasses swayed amongst the trees. For a moment, he was right there standing feet from Rory. The air was fragranced by spring lilacs and orchestrated by a classical quartet (led by a harp). He knew there were others around them, but only Rory draped in that teal dress mattered. Her hands on his hips and her lips against his lips; it was all in the name of passion. That had felt like home, too. It seemed he lied once more – to himself. In the name of those fragments and in the name of memories he’d lied.


	2. Past

_Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can’t remember how you got from where you were to where you are._

Honestly, how had he ended up here? The plan seemed cut and dried – head to California, spend time on the beach helping Jimmy, and figure out life. While packing, things changed. Memories of bitter arguments returned.

 

**What are you going to do?** **You can’t go from couch to couch mooching off neighbors. You’re not going to be a wash up. You can’t get ahead being a leech. Under this roof, you’re going to do something. You’re going to be something.**

 

At least that’s how Jess remembered it. Those weren’t the actual words. Luke hadn’t actually said all that, but that was the cold sentiment. The biting words hurt at that time and they still did. Even still, they rang true.

 

That had been the plan – at least for a little while. Jess hated that plan. But being lost and confused it was the only viable option. The thought of it brought shame. Sick coated his mouth, burned his throat, and tightened his stomach into a knot of no return.  Sticking to that plan would’ve been a point of no return. Twenty, thirty, forty years from now he could’ve ended up a washed-up writer with nothing to his name.

 

In the midst of chaos, with the clothes strewn as a carpet and the walls vibrating with blaring music (to drown out hope below and the despair inside), he slouched on the floor knowing this was wrong. It was all wrong.

 

Leaving for California was not an option. Staying in Stars Hollow was not an option.  What then? As if someone or something overheard that persistent inner-monologue, the radio blasted a commercial put out by the Army. _Do you want to do something important? Do you want to work for something bigger than yourself? Do you want a future? The Army needs YOU! Enlist today._

Generally, he tuned the words out. Those commercials were designed to entice and encourage. They sounded benign, but never seemed to have a lot of substance. They also called for attention. He didn’t want to indulge in the commercial’s needs. But this time Jess listened. This time they struck a chord. They gave answers.

 

Could he fight? Could he carry a gun? Could he be a soldier?  He didn’t know. Sure, he’d gotten into some fistfights, but that was in self-defense. He’d never picked up a gun – not even a shot gun. Every story about the war left him cold. A couple times he even found himself at protests. Innocent people died in battle against the malicious.  But the malicious killed the innocent too. That left him even colder.

 

Without looking up the requirements to enlist, Jess finished packing and left for the bus stop. He didn’t even say goodbye; he couldn’t. He’d boarded the bus. He’d had that final talk with Rory (at least it felt like the final talk). He’d gotten off at the station and got a one-way ticket to Columbus, Georgia – to basic training at Fort Benning. He’d only known where to go by asking someone at the station.

 

A day later, he arrived. The welcome sign wanted to be cheery; it wasn’t. Shouldering he bag, Jess walked up to the guard. “I want to enlist,” he explained. The guard arched an eyebrow as if no one ever came with that request. “Ma’am.”  

 

“Bag. I.D.. Name,” she demanded. After Jess turned everything over and she examined his meager bag of goods, she nodded him through. “Main office. They’ll be waiting.”

 

“Okay, ma’am,” he said. Items back in his possession, Jess hiked up the incline. His feet dragged. His back ached. His shoulder stooped. He felt beaten down and warn out from life. This was the end of the road. This was it. The rug of certainty had been pulled out from under feet. Now he either would find himself standing tall or falling on his face.

 

 


	3. Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I had exams and wasn't feeling a bit under-the-weather. I hope this chapter's worth the wait!. The Matthew I mention is one of the guys Jess runs Truncheon Books with. Just a little hint of Jess's future. Also, someone interesting will be making an appearance in this chapter. Jess will be revealing some heavy stuff. I'm excited for you to 'meet' the character.

_All around me the options seemed to be narrowing, as if I were hurtling down a huge black funnel, the whole world squeezing in tight._

The moments outside the bureau ticked by slow and steady as if taking a painful march through an unexplored forest. Hums of the space sounded familiar, as if he were in any office. It seemed unsettled and wrong. Men and women chatted and laughed in tandem with thudded footfalls. The water cooler bubbled. Faxes and printers chugged out papers. It was too normal.

 

At the angle Jess sat, he couldn’t read the full name on the door. From where he sat, he made out **Sergeant T. D…** and the rest burred into black squiggles. Looking at the door brought back memories of looking through Matthew’s glasses; the world seemed shaded and fuzzed into nothingness. Much like that time wearing Matthew’s glasses, it left Jess feeling queasy. Instead of the door, he focused on his lumpy bag settled at his feet. It wanted to fall over and would have if Jess’s knees weren’t propping it up.

 

Waiting felt unnatural. It ached his bones and gnawed at his stomach as it fought the rationale of being here. Maybe this was wrong. Maybe he should leave. Maybe the Army wasn’t for him. He wasn’t a fighter – not in the military sense. But here he was and leaving would make him look foolish. Still, his body wanted to go. It propelled his feet to push against the ground and raise his ash from the hard, plastic seat.

 

Just then the door labeled **Sergeant T. D…** opened. A young man, no more than 22-years strode out. Not what Jess expected at all. He was striking and had the air of authority, though. Blonde hair cut short and a band indent around his head, but the tight hat was nowhere to be seen. Navy slacks, striped goldenrod, with tie and a jacket to match. And oh the medals – so many medals. This was a decorated young man.

 

“Hello,” Jess greeted as he stepped around his bag. Sure enough, it fell down, but nothing spilled out.  He faltered in words. What to say? What to call this man? He couldn’t even see is full name. Unsure about handshakes or saluting, his hand floundered up and down; he felt foolish.

 

“Sergeant Tristan Dugray,” the young man interjected and offered a hand to shake as well as a slight smile that had a tinge of bemusement. “Mr. Mariano. The guards tell me you want to enlist.”  He nodded to his open office and headed inside.

 

Jess followed (with pack in hand). The room looked like any office. There was a cluttered desk with a computer as well as plentiful seating. There were bookshelves filled with binders and books. A map of the world and a calendar decorated one wall. There was even a potted palm, but it looked plastic. What a normal space. Again, he felt unnerved.

 

“Sit,” Sergeant Dugray instructed nodding to one of the chairs in front of the desk. He moved around to the back and sat down. A wall of paperwork blocked the view line, but for then the other man kept the papers and folders in place. “Tell me why? Why do you want to enlist? We don’t normally have people come walking up to the base.”

 

Jess did not have a response. He couldn’t say no. He couldn’t tell Sergeant Dugray , _‘I don’t know’_. Those were lame words. They were weak. Being in the military meant having both strength and certainty. Those were two things Jess did not have, but he was going to fake it until he made it.

 

“Listen, kid,” Tristan began. He leaned forward in that rolling desk chair of his and laced his fingers together. “I think you’re lost. I think you don’t know shirt what you want to do with your life. You didn’t graduate. The papers you turned in at the front gate show that. You’re lost and you’re scared. You feel like you need to prove yourself. I’ve been in the same place as you. It sucks, but I can’t allow you to enlist. You have to have your diploma or your GED at the very least.”

 

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m lost. Maybe I’m floundering.  Maybe I don’t know what the here I want to do with my life. Who cares?” Jess spat. His blood boiled. This young sergeant was trying to figure him out. He was too close for comfort. “ _I want to serve_. Isn’t that enough? I thought the military needed soldiers. I can fight. I want to. I want to.”

 

“Calm it, Mr. Mariano. You’re speaking to an Army Sergeant. Do I need to call the guards to haul you off? I will,” he warned with a steel gaze. Tristan was dead serious about his words and his position. There would be no disrespect.

 

“Let me enlist. Let me train. Let me fight,” Jess begged.

 

“Mr. Mariano…”

 

“Don’t Mr. Marino me! I need this. I need the structure. I need something because I don’t have anything. The girl of my dreams doesn’t want me. She’s out there conquering her dreams. My uncle doesn’t want me. He made it damn clear I wasn’t allowed to live with him if I didn’t graduate. You know what, I didn’t graduate! So I have no home. The only car I ever had is busted beyond repair. My own mother filled our trailer with love, but used to forget to buy groceries when I was growing up and she’s still that flakey. Not to mention my own father. He can't even manage a pickle booth!”

 

“Okay. Okay. Get a diploma and I will approve your enlistment. Okay?”

 

It took several seconds for the agreement to sink again. After the first word, Jess’s mouth flew open ready for round three. Fight or flight in full force. Hands pressed on the desk and butt lifted from seat, he was ready. But Tristan’s softer ‘okay’ struck a chord. Falling back down onto seat, Jess nodded.

_“Okay.”_

 


End file.
